


It doesn't hurt, until it does.

by casecous



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst, F/M, Light Masochism, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Panic Attacks, Sexual Content, Survivor Guilt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casecous/pseuds/casecous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Question: What do you think Kaz did while Big Boss was in that 9 year coma?<br/>Answer: Had meaningless sex with a bunch of men and women whose eyes were never the right shade of blue, hair never the right shade of brown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It doesn't hurt, until it does.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the above question asked by my friend, See, and my awful answer. Set between Ground Zeroes and The Phantom Pain.  
> Only tagged with mild dub-con because of a comment about Kaz being drunk at one point. But he's aware of what he's doing and what he wants. So. Take that as you will. Also, a slur is used.  
> I love Kaz a lot, I promise, though this may make it seem otherwise. :U

  


1\. Kaz used to love showers. At their best, they were a joint adventure, hot water and steam rinsing their skin of the day’s blood and dirt and relieving the tension from their sore muscles. Lazy, slow explorations of each other’s mouths and bodies, and mutual relief from another sort of tension that felt _incredible._ Now, as his hands wrap around himself, he can imagine for a second that it isn't his own hand. But he can feel the empty spot where Snake’s hardness would press into him from behind. Can feel the emptiness where rough lips on his neck and the accompanying scratch of Snake’s stubble should be. That’s all it takes to distract him, he goes soft as his mind flashes to a hospital bed, Snake lying in it still as death, a starch, white sheet pulled to his waist. The shower is suddenly too hot and he smacks his hand to the blue tile of the shower wall for support, breathing heavily and feeling nauseous from the guilt. He doesn't try again. He grows accustomed to the numbness. 

  


2\. He finally accepts from the guy who has been casually flirting with him at the gym. His eyes are the too-green shade of blue, but if there is anything Kaz is good at, it’s casual sex. When he invites Kaz up under the guise of coffee, he says yes. They skip the coffee.  
He pulls Kaz's shirt off over his head and advances to kiss his chest when he notices the scars covering his skin. His fingers graze over a large, reddish one and Kaz tries not to flinch. He has to mask the anger that flits across his face, has to force himself not to scream as this _stranger_ asks tenderly, “How did you get these?” Because _Snake knew_ every single one of his scars. Because he can still feel clearly the time Snake kissed every single one of them and told him he was beautiful. Can still remember how he had responded, ”I know” with a smile that made Snake pretend-leave the bed, and how he pulled him back down into it, laughing, and they rolled into Round 2.  
“I was a soldier,” is how he answers, finally, and he thrusts his hips upward to will him to keep going, but he still wants to scream at the guy whose fingers don’t belong there.  
“Call me,” the man says as Kaz gets dressed the next morning. “I will,” Kaz responds. He doesn't. He needs to find a new gym.

  


3\. She’s a pretty, little, dark-haired thing with a slight accent. Exactly his type, or would have been, 3 years ago. Her legs are smooth, she’s warm and soft, inside and out, she moans instead of grunts. It’s different, and he likes that, because then it doesn't feel like he’s cheating at anything. But she smokes a cigarette afterward and something about it is too achingly familiar to deal with. He swallows against the lump in his throat and shuts his eyes, but it doesn't stop the smell of tobacco invading his nose. She tells him thanks before she leaves, like he did her a favor. He guesses he sort of did. 

  


4\. He could just pay for it. He’s never paid for it before. He’s never had to. The phone is in his hand, undialed, and he’s trying to rehearse the words in his mind. It’s a business deal and he is good at business. Was. Is. _A brunette. Male. Blue eyes._ He imagines saying. Short. To the point. People do it all the time. He’ll show up and Kaz will hand him the money and the man will say, “I’ll be whoever you want me to be.” Kaz will close his eyes and call him Snake, and the man will stroke his hair and call him Kaz in the wrong voice. He’ll leave when the two hours are up and a few days later Kaz will call for him again.  
The reorder tone from the phone is sudden and loud and he hangs up the receiver.

  


5\. At a bar, Kaz picks a man up who is muscular and hairy and has a gravelly voice. It’s a particularly bad night where he doesn’t know if he’s had too much to drink or not enough. His body aches to feel something physical instead of the emptiness of the black hole that had started in his heart and spread to the rest of his body. The man calls Kaz a slut when Kaz flirtingly tells him not to be gentle and Kaz smiles, wolfish and hollow, to show he approves. _Of course I am, call me it again._ The man throws him on the bed belly-down and fucks him from behind when Kaz tells him he’s ready before he actually is. He is temporarily blinded from the searing pain, but he deserves it. Because then it’s easier to understand why he is alive and _okay_ , while Snake is _not._  
It’s over too quickly and the guy says something he doesn't pay attention to. His heart is beating too hard, lungs constricting so that he can’t breathe, and something in him snaps, and he just _yells_. His ears are ringing but his mouth is moving around the words _GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. GET THE FUCK OUT._  
When the door slams and the room is empty again, like it should be, like it always is, he slides down the wall, collapsing onto the carpet, naked and sore. He sobs, unable to hold it in anymore. His body feels like it’s on fire and it won’t stop shaking. It’s what he wanted, exactly what he asked for. But he wishes it all would stop.


End file.
